Sick
by Captain James
Summary: A character gets sick, and it’s Harry’s fault. (One-shot)


**Title:** Sick

**Rating:** G

**Summary:** A character gets sick, and it's Harry's fault.

**Pairing:** None

**Labels:** One-shot

**Beta-reader:** EmilyWood

* * *

-

"Aarghh!"

Perfect. Trust Ron to burst through the door and disturb the pleasant silence of a Sunday afternoon in the bedroom.

"What now?"

Harry sounds resigned. Poor, poor Harry.

"'_What now'_? She's impossible!"

Hey! You almost crushed me! You can sit on your bed, but don't put your feet up on Harry's. I'm sitting here, in case you haven't noticed.

"I thought we had established that by now. Haven't you learnt to deal with that, yet?"

"There's no way to deal with that! Girls are impossible to figure out."

"Perhaps we are just not meant to figure them out."

"I don't care what we are meant to do or not, mate. They are complicated on purpose so we won't understand them, but when we make a mistake out of ignorance, they get mad and complain that we don't understand them. Why can't they just say things outright?"

"Don't ask _me_, how am I supposed to know?"

I can see you smile from here, Harry, even if your friend can't.

"Yeah."

I can read 'Cho' in your eyes, Ron. _You_ aren't one to talk, are you?

"Hm."

"They are all the same, girls are."

"Not all."

I love it when you smile at me like that, Harry. It's as if you pour all your love for me into that one simple gesture. You really care for me, I know.

"Have you finished your Transfigurations essay yet?"

What an obvious attempt to change the subject, Ron. You'll never learn the meaning of the word 'subtlety', I suppose. Talking about girls makes you feel uncomfortable, doesn't it?

"Not yet. And you?"

And Harry, bless him, complies. You won't find another friend like him anywhere else, Ron, you know that?

"Same. Got a lot to write yet?"

"Just one inch, but it's too hard. I don't know what else to add. Hermione's already filled two parchm-"

"Urgh! Don't say her name."

"I didn't know her sole name could inspire as much fear in you as-"

"It's not _fear_, it's annoyance. Why did we ever make friends with her, Harry?"

Oh, no! Here he goes again...

"Well...she's a good person."

Why does he even bother?

"So? There are lots of good people out there."

Not as many as you think, Ron. You are lucky to have her as a friend. I can only hope you won't realise that too late, you ungrateful little-

"She's smart, and nice, and she always helps us, and she helps Neville, too, and she's smart-"

"You've already said that."

Who cares, Ron? Your question doesn't even make much sense to begin with.

"But she is, isn't she?"

"Irritatingly so, yes. What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for something- Here it is!"

What is it, Harry?

"This is for you."

For me? What is it? I want to know! It smells odd...

"I got it for you at Hogsmeade yesterday. Don't leave crumbs on the covers. Here."

Thanks! Wait...

"D'you like it?"

Harry, this is awful!

"Hey, why are you spitting it?"

This is disgusting! It tastes like... argh, sugar! Don't you have a rat-flavoured one?

"Don't you like them?"

I think I'm going to be sick...

"Oh, no! I hope they don't make you sick."

"Harry, I told you those wouldn't be good for her."

"Should I take her to Madam Pomfrey?"

No, no, just let me go get some air...

"Well, I'm not sure she'll know what to do. But if I were you, I wouldn't take her to Hagrid."

"So what should I do?"

Just let me out!

"I'd say you let her out."

Yes. Yes! Listen to Ron, Harry! He's saying something useful at last!

"I knew I should have gotten those owl treats for you, but I thought you'd like these cookies for a change..."

No time for apologies, Harry. I forgive you, now open the bloody window or I'll be sick all over your bed!

"Those are meant for humans, mate."

"Oh, no, the window is stuck!"

What? No- No!

"Then try this one! I'd hurry if I were you, unless you want to sleep on a pool of vomit, of course-"

"Shut up, Ron!"

-

"I've never seen her take off so quickly," Harry says in amazement, looking out the window and squinting against the bright sunlight.

Ron grins, goes back to his bed and lies down. "She was feeling sick."

"Do you think owls can vomit?"

Ron raises his head and looks at Harry. "_You_ own one, mate. You should really learn more about them."

Harry left the room, heading determinedly for the library to do some research on owls.

-


End file.
